


Borrowed Anxiety

by mylordshesacactus



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, adorable interspecies lesbians being adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1663412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'll be fine. Really."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Borrowed Anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts were from auronlu and thespookybaalaka, respectively. There is no such thing as too much Nyssa/Tegan.

"It was nice of the Cranleighs to let us keep this stuff.” Tegan’s voice was light as she shook the flower dress out, glancing over it for wrinkles. “I haven’t had a dress like this in years.”

"Yes..." Tegan looked over, frowning at the strange detachment in Nyssa’s voice. She didn’t sound like herself at all."I’m sure they were very nice people." 

"Well, most of them were," Tegan allowed. Lady Cranleigh'd been a little creepy. "Ann Talbot seemed all right, anyway. She was a sweet girl." She grinned as she slipped her shoes off. "Pretty, too."

Finally, Nyssa smiled, glancing over her shoulder. “You’re biased, Tegan.”

"Am not." 

"You most certainly _are_ ,” Nyssa informed her, turning away with great dignity and thoroughly unable to hide her blush. “Anyway, Ann’s _not_ a Cranleigh. Not yet, at least.” 

Tegan shrugged. “As you like. Nyssa, are you _sure_ you’re all right?” She’d been shaking badly the first night, curling into Tegan’s shoulder and clinging to her like she was the only solid thing in the world. She hadn't cried, she so rarely did, but both of them had been tense—going very still at the slightest sound, neither feeling safe enough in that house to turn any of the lights off. But curled into each other with simple exhaustion coming to their aid they’d slept, eventually, if only for a few hours.

Nyssa had handled the whole thing remarkably well after that; in fact everyone but Tegan seemed a great deal more concerned for Ann, who had been pale and shell-shocked even the next morning and seemed to feel secure only with Charles' arm around her. Even Adric had managed to look up from his eggs and bacon to ask if she would be all right; the Doctor was of the opinion that with her family's support and plenty of time out of the house she would be just fine, once the shock wore off.

Tegan hoped he was right, of course. She liked Ann well enough, and the poor girl deserved to be happy, especially after everything she'd been through. But her priorities were elsewhere; she was compulsively unable to let Nyssa out of her sight for an instant, reaching out for her every few minutes to make sure she was still there. The little Trakenite had seemed grateful for the attention, though it took the form of fingers brushed lightly over Tegan's in a quiet affirmation of security rather than Ann's traumatized clinging to the young Lord Cranleigh. But that had just been Tegan's own concern. Nyssa herself, she'd seemed fine; certainly she'd been through much worse and come out of it.

Nyssa stood on the other side of the room for a long moment, staring at the glittering butterfly dress before giving a decisive nod.

"I think I am, yes." She hesitated, then glanced across the room. "Tegan…?"

"Hmm?" Nyssa didn't respond. For a moment Tegan was confused by the silence, until she looked over again and saw how tiny and alone the girl was, and the pleading, apologetic look in her eyes. "Ah, Nyssa, c’mere…."

Nyssa melted into her arms with a faint, tired sigh of relief, resting her head against Tegan’s chest and closing her eyes. Tegan hadn’t realized there was borrowed anxiety thudding at the base of her skull until Nyssa relaxed, calm flooding across both their minds, and the tight little ball of stress unraveled. Tegan still wasn’t quite used to that telepathy thing, but it felt… nice, she decided, knowing how she made Nyssa feel. It felt very nice in fact.

"Thank you," Nyssa murmured.

Tegan tightened her arms around her partner’s back, pulling her closer. “Don’t mention it.”

Nyssa hummed. “Next time,” she said sleepily, “I’ll teach you a Trakenite waltz.”

"No crazy explorers on the roof?" Nyssa shook her head with a faint smile. "All right then. It’s a date."

"I’m tired," Nyssa whispered.

"You should rest." Tegan nudged her gently towards the bed. They were back on the TARDIS now; hopefully it would help them _both_ feel a little safer. She knew better than anyone to never underestimate the power of bad dreams. "I’d stay, but I’m _starving_.”

Nyssa pressed into her with a laugh; it was quiet, but genuine. “The Cranleighs gave the Doctor some leftover food from the party; you could have that. It’s more reliable than what the TARDIS comes up with.”

"If I can find it before Adric does."

"Go on," Nyssa urged. "I’ll be fine, Tegan. Really."

"If you say so." Tegan leaned over to kiss her forehead. "I’ll be back in a little while."

Nyssa nodded and yawned, pulling the blanket up around her. Tegan looked back at least three times before she made it out the door.

* * *

"It’s your room now." Tegan made very little effort to disguise the resentment in her voice. "You can do as you like."

Nyssa looked up as Tegan slumped back into their room, tossing the Kinda double-helix necklace onto her bed. Tegan pretended not to notice her patiently chiding expression.

"You can’t dislike him that much already, Tegan,” the Trakenite said reasonably. “You’ve barely met!”

"I’ve seen enough," Tegan grumbled. "Why’d the Doctor have to ask him to stay?”

Nyssa shook her head affectionately and turned back to whatever bit of science she’d been doing. “You could _try_ to get along with him,” she said. “He’s really been nothing but polite. I think it was very kind of the Doctor to invite him to travel with us.”

"Could’ve given him a different room."

Nyssa was silent for several moments.

"I see," she said quietly. She reached out and turned down the flame on some sort of futuristic Bunsen burner with a lot of complicated-looking wheels on the side, very carefully using a pair of tongs to place a jar of bubbling blue liquid in a tub of some sort of weird gel. The transition sent up a brief cloud of steam but nothing exploded, and Nyssa nodded to herself before pulling her gloves off and crossing the room to sit down on the bed.

She wrapped a gentle arm around the human's waist. "Tegan," she started carefully, "You know the Doctor’s not trying to _replace_ Adric, don’t you?”

“Well you could’ve fooled me,” Tegan mumbled uncharitably.

" _Tegan_."

Tegan looked away. She knew she wasn't really being fair; logically she realized that the Doctor was just responding to yet another lost soul looking for help and adventure (even if they were an arrogant little snot of a soul). But that didn’t mean it didn’t still _hurt_. They hadn’t even _touched_ Adric’s room since he’d died. And then for the Doctor to so casually give it to the first insufferable young man to come along—assuming Turlough _was_ a man, she hadn’t actually asked yet... it just felt wrong.

"He was just a kid, Nyssa!"

"I know." Nyssa’s reply was quiet and simple. "I miss him too. He was a very good friend."

Tegan leaned into her, lacing her fingers through the ones resting comfortingly on her hip. She had to remind herself yet again that Nyssa had been closer to Adric, was closer to his age—by the Trakenite equivalent, anyway—than Tegan was, knew him longer, had spent more time with him. If losing him had felt to Tegan like losing a kid brother, she couldn't imagine what it was like for Nyssa. As if the poor thing hadn't watched enough loved ones die already.

Tegan smiled shakily. “He was obnoxious as anything, mind. But I liked him.”

"There, you see?" Nyssa squeezed her teasingly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "In that case you and Turlough should get along splendidly."

"Don’t hold your breath."

Nyssa never rolled her eyes at anyone, but Tegan could have sworn she was close. “We’ll talk to Turlough at dinner,” she said briskly, standing up and crossing back to her lab bench. “We can tell him that his room used to belong to a very dear family member of ours who died, and that it will mean a great deal to us if he’s respectful of that while he redecorates. I’m sure he’ll listen.”

"And if he doesn’t?"

"Then you can shout at him until he does," Nyssa answered without hesitation, slipping on a new pair of protective gloves and returning her now-cooled blue liquid to its place above the burner. "Now, hand me that graduated cylinder."


End file.
